


Fireworks

by dontknowcats



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4248963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontknowcats/pseuds/dontknowcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atheva Lavellan has heard stories of The Champion of Kirkwall for years and now he's standing with her and the Inquisition. But what happens when she's left with a racing heart, red cheeks, and a smile that can never leave?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Song inspo for this chapter: Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Lorde

Her arms still hurt. So did her legs. All of her hurt.

She felt stupid when she was surprised at the soreness. She had almost buried herself alive in an avalanche, of course she was in pain. Despite the week that had passed since her introduction to The Elder One, Atheva was still aching and cold. The magic that kept Skyhold warm and bearable did nothing to alleviate the cold that had settled into her bones, freezing her from the inside after her trek through the blizzard.

Her brain was still buzzing with the words Corypheus had presented, giving a long speech about the “anchor” that she had stolen. The fact that he was basically a monster hadn’t been lost on her either. The mark had burned hot enough in the days that had followed the loss of Haven that she had resorted to shoving her hands in the snow for relief. Or even holding hands with Solas while he kept a cooling spell going.

It had been traumatic, to say the least.

And now, on top of learning that she hadn’t been chosen by a human legend, she was being made Inquisitor. As she was handed the sword, it took everything in her power to not tell them they were making a mistake. She was supposed to grow up a simple crafter in a Dalish clan outside of Kirkwall. If she hadn’t lost her father, she wouldn’t have even been at the Conclave. She would have been sitting at home, probably in love with someone, maybe engaged. Probably married.

But she had to power through, think of the now. With every muscle she could use, she raised the sword. “I will lead us against Corypheus, and I will be an ambassador. I’m an elf standing for Thedas. The Inquisition is for all!” Had she really just said that? Had that come out of her mouth? Her tongue tasted like the stupidity she had just spewed and she couldn’t help but wonder once again why they had chosen her to lead them all. Were humans truly as dense as she had been lead to believe?

Even with her freezing insides she could feel herself blush as the crowd below cheered. And the way that Josephine got caught up in the excitement was enough to make her smile. They were all her friends and she had to remember that. They were there for her, even if she wasn’t the best option.

After the celebration was over, Cullen and Josephine made their way up the stairs to join the three women waiting there. Apparently the excitement still had its hold on the Antivan when she hugged Atheva, almost lifting the petite elf off the ground. The two exchanged looks of shock and surprise as the other two stifled their laughter. Once back on the ground, Atheva smiled at Josephine and gently patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s cute.”

“Inquisito-“

“Please, for the love of the Creators, still call me Atheva.” The ambassador smiled and gave a small nod of understanding. “Alright, let’s go see what that main hall looks like!”

It looked like shit.

The ground was covered in hay (“Did they stash horses in here?” Cullen had asked under his breath), rubble from the holes in the walls, and beams that must have been used for the ceiling (“This is no place to hold a ball, at least,” Leliana had joked to Josephine). To the right of the entryway was even a fallen chandelier.

If Atheva hadn’t been able to read the atmosphere, she would have cracked a joke or made an excuse to get out of cleaning. She glanced over to the throne on the far end of the hall and began to walk towards it as the group spoke behind her. It was threatening and honestly unsettled her. Would she be made to use it? Surely there would be no need for her to sit like the figurehead of a ship. No time, either.

“Sorry?” She turned on her heel when Cullen cleared his throat to capture her attention. “Oh. Well, wouldn’t getting information be our first… step? To finding out about Corypheus?” It was hard for her to focus on her words, what with the sword chair sitting behind her. If it had eyes she would bet five sovereigns it would be glaring at her. Being in the same room with it was enough to put her off her game.

As the four discussed their next step, the elf saw one of her friends peek his head inside of the hall. She said nothing as Leliana spoke but smiled in his direction.

“I’d feel better if we knew more about what we’re dealing with.” The four were quiet for a moment, the air hanging heavy over them.  Varric must have seen it as his cue because he sauntered into the room as if he owned the place.

“I know someone who can help with that.” The group turned, questioning him with a single look. “Ah… Everyone acting all inspirational jogged my memory so I… I sent a message to an old friend. He’s crossed paths with Corypheus before and may know more about what he’s doing.”

“I’m always looking for new allies,” Atheva said with a shrug. “Introduce me.”

The way Varric looked around made her raise an eyebrow curiously. “Uh, parading around might cause a fuss.”

_Holy shit._

“It’s better for you to meet privately. On the battlements. Trust me, it’s complicated.”

_Holy shit. It can’t be._

Atheva dug her nails into the palms of her hands as she tried to keep from following Varric too closely. She didn’t want to seem like a fan or anything. She had to keep her cool if it really was him. “So, Varric, who’s your friend?” She asked curiously.

Varric looked up at the soldiers they passed on the way to the stairs and shook his head. “Just keep your head on, Swish. We’re almost there.” It was obvious he could read her like an open book, but she couldn’t help herself.

She took the stairs two at a time before remembering that he had a harder time than she did with going up stairs quickly, so she paused and waited for him to catch up before continuing the walk up to the battlements. Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure Varric could hear it. When they reached the top of the battlements, no one was there. “Varric, you better not be leading me on.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be here at any second,” the dwarf said with a knowing smile that made Atheva huff and turn away.

Minutes passed and it was hard for her to not bounce on the balls of her feet out of the nervousness and excitement mixing in her blood. She heard someone walk down the steps behind her and turned. The moment she saw that black hair and bushy beard she felt her heart shove its way up her throat so she wouldn’t be able to speak.

It was actually him. The Champion of Kirkwall was standing not five feet from her. She had heard stories about him from the merchants that had traded with her clan. Of course, they were merely stories, right? There had to be some truth however: they had pegged him down as being as hairy as a bear.

“Swish, meet Hawke. Champion of Kirkwall,” Varric said with a proud smile. Atheva bit her tongue to keep herself from saying that she already knew who he was. She wasn’t willing to be rude in front of him.

“Though I don’t use the title much anymore,” the other male added on with a devious smile, gaining a small nervous smile from the elf.

“Hawke, Inquisitor Lavellan. I figured you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus. You and I _did_ fight him, after all.”

No handshake was shared between Atheva and Hawke despite the urge for her to just wrap her arms around him like a child. He was so tall and muscular, even with his arm it was easy to tell. He just looked so safe yet so guarded, like Skyhold itself. She yearned to venture closer and see just how well defended he had made himself, but did no such thing as he wandered to the side of the battlements to look out over the courtyard.

Hawke glanced over his shoulder to her briefly, prompting her to not look so… useless. So she crossed her arms over her chest, hoping the blush on her cheeks wasn’t too obvious.

“You’ve already dropped half a mountain on the bastard. I’m sure anything I can tell you pales in comparison,” he muttered.

“I don’t know about that. You did save Kirkwall from those Qunari,” Atheva said with a small shrug.

“I don’t see how that really applies.” He paused and she saw a smile push up his cheeks from where she stood behind him. “Or is there a hoard of Qunari I don’t know about?”

“We have a Qunari. I suppose he could qualify for a hoard, but he’s… a big softie. At least when he isn’t fighting for us.”

Another smile from Hawke as he turned from the view of the courtyard to look at her once more. She could barely focus on the rest of the conversation, instead studying each line of his face (most of which he had hidden behind his beard) so she could try and recreate it later. She knew he had fans like her back in her clan and they would have loved to have met him as well. So perhaps she could try and draw a picture so they knew what he looked like.

“No, he told me he’d be hiding in an old smugglers cave outside Crestwood.”

What? What had she possibly missed?

Hawke shot a smirk her way and she wanted to die. He knew she hadn’t been listening, that she’d been watching him. “I-I… Thank you for your help,” she stammered before turning on her heel and walking back up the stairs to the main battlements. She could hear them talking and it was dreadful, being unsure of if they were talking about her or not. No doubt they were.

 

* * *

 

The next few days were infuriatingly long. Atheva was forced to remain in Skyhold until they had most everything up and running completely in case anything happened while she was gone. She was sick and tired of being stuck where Hawke could send her into a tizzy just by standing near her.

“You know that will happen when you go out to get Stroud, right?” Varric asked with a laugh. The look on her face was enough to make him double over, which in turn made her sink into her chair.

The evening before they were to leave for Crestwood she had been enjoying her dinner when Hawke took a seat across the table from her. Suddenly she had no appetite, but she decided to ask what had been scratching at her mind ever since she had met him.

“I… I assume Varric’s been telling you everything about the Inquisition,” she said, “What… did he say about me?”

“Only good things, I promise. I was a little surprised, actually. Varric isn’t one for religion in general, but he thinks highly of the Inquisition. I think the exact phrase was ‘has a good shot at fixing Blondie’s mess.’” He ended with such a spot-on impression of Varric that Atheva couldn’t help but laugh loudly at the table, causing soldiers to look her way.

She covered her mouth and nose with her hands when she began to snort, her cheeks burning red as she apologized around her laugher. “I-I’m so so-sorry, Hawke!”

At this point Hawke was laughing as well and she saw a real smile. There was warmth that reached his eyes when the skin around them crinkled. When they finally were able to stop their giggles and return to their meal he shook his head. “Don’t apologize for anything. It was nice to see you smile for once. And please, call me Garrett.”


	2. Chapter 2

"Swish?"

_Maybe you’re just imagining things, maybe he doesn’t…_

“Swish.”

_No, that’s ridiculous of course he does! You’re a desirable girl._

“Atheva!” Varric said, annoyed that he had been reduced to calling her by her first name.

She jumped in surprise and turned her attention back to him. “Sorry… Distracted by the thought of how I’m going to beat you all,” she said with a growing smile, trying to keep her eyes from Garrett. She looked over her cards once more and tried to get over the growing pit in her stomach. There was nothing good in her hand. How was she possibly going to win?

Beneath the table she felt a foot touch hers and instinctively tucked her feet beneath her chair. She glanced up at the person across from her, biting her lower lip with anticipation. Hawke didn’t even meet her eyes, obviously oblivious to the earth-shattering event that had just happened mere seconds ago.

_He’s going to be the death of me._

 

* * *

 

Atheva lost the game, as she had so wrongly predicted, and ended up with no money to her name other than the two sovereigns inside one of her desk drawers. No matter, she had gotten to spend another night laughing and talking with Garrett. And others. Even with the looming threat of Corypheus over their heads the group had taken it upon themselves to relax before contemplating their inevitable battles.

“So, we’ll go to Crestwood tomorrow and find Stroud. Then… we’ll do… whatever happens afterward,” Hawke explained as he walked beside Atheva out of the tavern. “Hopefully he’s alright. I don’t think we could do much without him.”

She tilted her head in confusion and raised her left hand out in front of her, watching as the familiar green glow engulfed it. “Hello? The ever-amazing Herald of Whatever here in front of you?”

The laugh that erupted from him made her smile and she was thankful that her reddening cheeks were hidden in the green light. “Of course, of course! What could we ever do without you?” He asked, bumping into her hard enough to send her stumbling a few steps to the side. “Sorry, didn’t… didn’t mean that to be that hard.” He cleared his throat afterwards, leading her to wonder if he was just as nervous in her presence as she was in his.

“What I mean is,” he finally said, “That he knows the Grey Wardens. We only have Blackwall here and he knows shit about their location.”

“Well he isn’t part of the Orlais… faction. Do they have factions?” When she didn’t receive an answer she sighed. “Yeah, no. We need the wardens, you’re right. And I’m positive that Stroud is alright. We’ll be there in only a few days, plenty of time for him to stay safe.” She reached a hand up to pat his shoulder, thankful he wasn’t wearing his crazy armor.

He looked over at her and placed his hand on hers. “Thank you, Inquisitor. I’m glad you’re not as stuffy as your ambassadors are,” he said, shooting her that crooked smile that made her heart melt. Paired with his touch, she was sure she was about to burn into tiny ashes that would no doubt later be thought to have healing properties.

She pulled her hand from his immediately and shrugged. “Atheva. Please, don’t call me Inquisitor. I have all of Thedas already doing that, no need to have the Champion groveling at my feet.” Had she really just said that? Ever since they arrived at Skyhold her mouth was having a mind of its own. Not that she would mind him groveling- _Okay! Atheva! Stop!_

“Alright, Atheva,” he said. Nothing followed and she was able to focus on how her name sounded coming from him. It reminded her of how her father used to say her mother’s name and it worried her. She was reading too far into everything, associating him with her happiness at any given time now that he was in Skyhold. But what if he reciprocated if she told him?

Before she could even act on her thoughts she found him turning away to walk down a different corridor in the main hall. She hadn’t even realized they had entered the large main structure of the Keep. “Good night, Inqui- Atheva. I’ll see you bright and early.” He had turned to speak to her while continuing his walk to his quarters, raising his hand in a brief wave before turning on his heel.

When he disappeared behind a door she brought her hands to her face and groaned into her palms. Fighting was going to be hell with him if he stood anywhere near her. How was she going to focus when he used his staff? She imagined how his muscles would flex with each turn of the staff and a soft groan escaped her.

“Trouble, Swish?”

Atheva nearly jumped out of her skin and three feet forward when she heard Varric speak. Her face was on fire when she looked down at him, head shaking quickly from side to side. “N-None at all!” When his teasing smile fell she knew he didn’t believe her. How could he? “I… It’s Garrett.”

“Of course it’s Hawke. The man has a reputation that precedes him,” the dwarf sighed as he motioned for her to sit with him by the fireplace he usually stood by. “Worried about how he’ll affect the Inquisition?”

“You must be joking,” she muttered as she took a seat.

Varric’s smile returned and he nodded. “You know me well, Swish. So, how long have you been… love struck?”

“L-Love struck? I… It can’t be love, can it? Just infatuation!” She stammered, though she knew it was all too true. She’d experienced the same feelings before and had fought them since then. She didn’t want to be in love again.

“Atheva,” he sighed as he resorted to her name for the second time that night. “Hawke is a good man. If he… returns your feelings, you won’t have to worry about much. He’d love you with all of his heart and do everything he could. But he might not always be here since he’s still in a lot of trouble.”

“But I can help with that, can’t I?”

“Ruffles and Curly and Seeker would not appreciate that.”

“I’m the Inquisitor, though. I can protect him and… and make sure he’s okay. We could find your friends and… I don’t know.” She sighed and rested her head on the table. “I just want him to be happy and safe. No matter what happens or what it takes.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Don’t sacrifice your happiness for his. He wouldn’t want that and you would regret it. Trust me, Swish, I know how that path goes. I approve of you going to him about it, but I don’t want either of you to regret it. I just wanted to warn you that he isn’t everything you’ve heard.”

Her hands pressed flat onto the table as she pushed herself up to her feet. “Yeah. Thanks, Varric,” she mumbled before walking to her quarters for the night. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

 

* * *

 

“Is everything okay Dorian?”

“I don’t want to hear another word,” he muttered, eliciting hushed chuckles from Atheva and Garrett. The two had been poking fun at the Tevinter mage’s ruined makeup as they trudged through the rain to return to camp. They watched as the blackened water ran down his cheeks and dripped off of his chin while comparing it to Atheva’s running makeup. “The Free Marches are extremely lucky to have you two mature adults as mostly glistening examples of what the people can do.”

Thunder cracked in the distance as they passed through Crestwood and continued their discussion of what Atheva and Dorian could use to seal their eye makeup (Vivienne was the most help in the end). Lightning struck behind them on multiple occasions and the group concluded it had to do with Atheva’s mark. “Must attract it or something. This didn’t happen on the Storm Coast, though,” she said with a shrug.

When the sky grew darker and the rain came to a brief stop the group gathered around the campfire in the center of camp. Stroud had left before them, leaving the five and the soldiers stationed in the area to recount the tales of the champion. Atheva was sat comfortably beside Hawke as he was asked for details on Kirkwall.

“Tell us about the Chan-!”

“Shut up, don’t ask about that. What about your brother? Have any heroic tales about him?”

Atheva watched him gladly retell his stories to people who must have read them over and over in Varric’s book. She wished she could read them. There was no doubt in her mind that there was more to his life than she had heard from the traders.

“What about… M... Merrill?” She asked when he finished speaking of the Bone Pit. “I never heard much about her other than the Eluvian…. What about her life? In the alienage?” She heard a groan from across the fire that was immediately shushed.

Garrett’s amused smile fell in surprise at her question and was replaced with a wide grin. “Merrill seemed to… at least entertain herself. She made friends in the slums without really meaning to.” He continued with examples, though he spoke mostly of her relationship with Isabela. “Very close” were the words he used.

As she listened to him talk longer about Merrill than he had any other subject she brought her hand up beneath her chin and rested the weight of her head on it. She sat that way for the rest of the time they were in front of the fire.

Eventually the soldiers retired to either watch or their tents and their companions dismissed themselves as well, leaving her and Garrett alone. He was still speaking about the intricacies of character that was Merrill.

“And- Oh. I’ve probably been going on long enough,” he said, noticing how small the fire had shrunk. “I’m still surprised someone asked about Merrill, however. She would be excited knowing that a fellow elf wanted to know about her.”

“I’d love to meet her one day. Not just to discuss the Eluvian but just… her life in general. Discussions about our clans and traditions and you.”

“Me?” He asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

“I… Yes, you. Any dirty secrets you aren’t willing to tell me.”

He smirked down at her before reaching a hand out to cup her cheek. “There are plenty of dirty secrets, Atheva. Some are dirtier than others.”

The elf was unable to retort with an innuendo. The look he was giving her brought a heat to her stomach that was urged on by his gentle touch with such rough hands. “I… Don’t care,” she breathed.

“Good. Otherwise we might not be able to be such good friends.”

She raised her hand to his and curled her fingers over his palm, effectively pulling him away. “Of course,” she said with a brief smile before standing up and dusting off the rear of her breeches. “I’m going to head to my tent for the night. Good night, Garrett.”

“Sleep well, Atheva.”


End file.
